House Call
by 2tailswaggin
Summary: This is a little old but I thought I'd post it away.  This is basically my rendition of what happened between Wilson walking out on House and him showing up at Tritter's office in Merry Little Christmas.  Enjoy and comments always welcome!  :


Allison Cameron was finishing logging notes for the case they just solved. She knew she needed to get them down now while they were still fresh in her mind rather than trying to remember everything tomorrow. The details were already less clear in her memory than on a normal day.

Since she'd been over to House's place, she couldn't get him out of her mind. She'd never seen him in such a dire condition, and it scared her to think how far he was going to have to fall before he found the bottom. She only hoped that when he did, he would have what it took to come back from it.

There was something about him that had always seemed invincible. But now, invincible was a word Cameron struggled to use to describe her boss and friend.

Finishing up, she shut down her laptop, packed it away and headed out of the hospital. She stood at the entrance, zipping her coat up as far as it would go. She reached behind her, flipped up her hood and did her best to shield herself from the cold that felt like it was finally coming in to settle for the winter.

Once inside her car, she pulled her hood back and breathed into her cupped hands before reaching for her phone.

Flipping through her recent calls, she settled on House's number.

No answer.

She wasn't really surprised he hadn't picked up his phone; she decided to stop by his place on her way home. She was his friend, regardless of whether House would ever use that word to describe her or not, and his friends where in short supply.

Not that it was anyone's fault but House's, but what was up Tritter's ass anyway, besides a thermometer? Cameron still had to snicker at the thought of that. But once she'd stopped laughing about that, Tritter made her angry. House, regardless of his style or lack of it, saved people's lives. Tritter just seemed hell-bent on destroying them.

As Cameron approached House's apartment, she saw Dr Wilson walking to his car. She chose a parking spot a few places down from his, hoping that he wouldn't see her. She didn't have anything constructive to say to him right now, but at least she was encouraged to see that he'd looked in on his best friend. Or that's what they used to be considered around the hospital. Now, she wasn't so sure.

What kind of a best friend made a deal where he came out on the better end of things, anyway? Wilson had his life back now, and Cameron hoped he could live with what he had done to make that happen.

Cameron waited for Wilson to drive away before she got out of her car. She stepped up to the entrance to House's place and got herself in from the wind. She couldn't decide whether dropping in on him like this was a good idea.

Wilson had just been here so surely he was okay; actually, he was likely to be pissed so maybe she should just leave.

But something inside her couldn't turn away. She was here now, and she wanted, more than anything, for him to know that she was there for him.

Cameron lightly knocked on the door but heard nothing in response. The wind and traffic up and down the busy street didn't allow her to hear if there was any movement inside. She knocked again. Nothing. She tried the door and found it unlocked so she cautiously let herself in.

"House?" she said as she peered around the front door.

"I just saw Wilson leaving..." Her voice trailed off as she looked around.

Cameron stepped inside and shut the door behind her. As she did she became aware of a familiar and unpleasant stench. She had no more than identified it, when she heard House choking and saw him lying on the floor.

He was trying to lift his head or maybe he was trying to sit up, but he was helpless to do either. With vomit on the floor beside him, now he was choking on more of it.

"Oh God…House," Cameron said quietly as she fell to the floor beside him and carefully rolled him onto his side. He continued to cough as more vomit dripped onto the floor, then all he could do was let out a groan and lie motionless next to her.

Making sure his mouth was empty, Cameron turned him onto his back again. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and slid it under his head. She could feel his heart racing through his chest where her hand was lying. Her stomach churned with disbelief, as she looked at him lying there so helpless and disoriented.

As she stood up, an anxious look washed over House's face as he tried opening his eyes but they only rolled back in his head as he blindly reached for her with what little life he had in him.

She crouched back down and tried to assure him, "I'm not going to leave you," unable to control the quivering in her voice.

Cameron headed for the bathroom and grabbed a towel and quickly ran it under warm water then returned to his side.

She gently wiped the filth from his face as she absently looked around to determine exactly what had happened. It didn't take her long to find a bottle of oxycodone and a bottle of scotch; both empty.

House looked and smelled horrible. All the color had drained from his face, with the exception of the black and red circles around his sunken eyes. His hair was wet and stuck to his head and the smell of regurgitated alcohol and opiates hung in the air over his body.

House's place was even a mess. Empty beer bottles, scotch bottles, take away Chinese boxes and pizza boxes throughout the living room and kitchen with dirty glasses, dishes and silverware scatted around. What looked like a week's worth of mail was tossed on the coffee table among a handful of DVD cases ranging from Girls Gone Wild to some unrecognizable titles that Cameron only assumed were too hard core for her taste.

The reality of what was happening started to settle and she became aware of her own heart racing and her hands began to tremble. She'd seen plenty of trauma patients, more than she cared to count. She'd also had more than her share of patients who had overdosed, but this was different.

This was the first time she'd seen someone she cared about suffering the effects of something so self-inflicted. The emotions that swirled inside of her were hardly recognizable.

As Cameron's mind gave way to more rational thinking and working less on instinct, an unbelievable reality crept into her mind.

Wilson.

Wilson had to have knowingly left House in this condition, where he very easily could have choked to death on the contents of his poisoned stomach.

"Bastard", she uttered under her breath as she gently wiped the drips of sweat that were rolling from House's forehead.

His eyes found hers; they lacked their normal sharpness, and Cameron suspected - House being House - he really wouldn't want her to see him in this state.

Realizing he assumed she was referring to him, she assured him again, "It's okay. You're not the bastard this time."

She wondered if he'd been conscious when Wilson had walked out on him. She wondered if House knew his so-called friend had come to look in on him at all. She decided, for the time being anyway, not to mention that she'd seen Wilson. She didn't want him knowing that his best friend might have just left him there to die. That was a reality she didn't want to inflict on him. Their friendship was none of her business and she decided to do herself a favor by staying out of it.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he closed his eyes and quietly coughed once again, then harder a second time, still trying to clear his throat. Suddenly regretting it and clenching his stomach as he squeezed his eyes closed.

Cameron got up to clear the things off his couch, thinking she needed to try to get him up from the floor. She saw his guitar leaning against the couch and as she gently laid it in the case that was open on the piano bench, she wondered how much there still was to his life that she didn't know about, even after months of working with him. There seemed to be so much more to House than he dared to show to other people.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard his phone begin to ring. As she reached for it, she heard House mumble, "Let it go...please."

She looked at him then continued to clear the couch. She couldn't help but hear the answering machine click on in the kitchen.

I'm not here. Or I might be here but I'm just not picking up the phone. Leave a message but don't expect me to call you back. Beep.

Greg. If you're there pick up.

The woman's voice paused.

I got your message. The weather had us late getting into Sarah's. I was hoping you'd call so I called back for my messages. It was so nice to hear your voice. If you're there I wish you'd pick up.

The voice paused, again. Cameron looked over at House. He was sitting up, legs bent, with his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He just sat there, listening.

I sure miss you and I'd love to see you soon. So would your father. I guess you're not there. Maybe you're out with James. 

Another pause.

I love you, Greg...Merry Christmas.

With that, the machine clicked off. House sat motionless until he coughed and cleared his throat once again, head still resting in his hands.

Cameron walked over to him and got down on her haunches in front of him.

"Can you get up?"

House didn't react.

Cameron just waited. He had on a brown dress shirt and she noticed the cuffs were unbuttoned. The bandages she'd put on him were gone and his left sleeve was stained with dried blood.

House finally lifted his head while sliding his hands down his face trying to hide the fresh tears that were on his cheeks.

He took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling and past Cameron altogether, "You should leave."

"No. And in your condition, I don't think you have any say in the matter."

Cameron moved behind him, grabbing him under his arms she tried supporting him while he lifted himself to his feet.

This wasn't an easy task being that he easily made two of her and had one useful leg but he steadied himself on the table and managed to set himself down on the couch.

House looked aimlessly into the darkness while he hugged his stomach.

"I can't do this to her," he eventually croaked out in a weak voice as he lay his head on the back of the couch, "she, of all people, doesn't deserve this."

"Do you want me to call her back?" Cameron asked quietly.

"No."

Cameron sat down beside him and reached for his arm. He tried pulling away but she tightened her grip on his wrist.

"Let me see," she said insistently.

He gave up resisting and let her roll up the sleeve on his shirt. She saw old cuts that had been re-opened and fresh cuts as well. She saw the bandages and first-aid tape were still sitting on the table from when she'd fixed him up earlier.

She cleaned up his self-inflicted wounds and gave him fresh bandages.

"Is this the only place you've been cutting yourself?" she asked starting to feel more in control of the situation.

"Yes," he said as he raised his head and looked at her. He didn't look away as she busied herself putting the medical supplies back on the table.

"Why did you come here?" he asked.

"Would you rather I hadn't?"

House returned his head to the back of the couch, "No," he said quietly.

"Are you ready to take the deal?" Cameron asked flatly.

House didn't respond.

Cameron's voice was forced, as she pleaded, "House, you have no other choice. You can't get more drugs. You either take the deal, go to prison, or disappear."

As soon as those words escaped her mouth she closed her eyes wishing she could take them back, "God, I hope that's not what you tried to do here tonight," she said quietly as much to herself as to him.

House looked at her, "I thought you didn't believe in God."

"I don't. Or not at least in one that gives a damn about our lives."

"I do. I just can't figure what sort of horrible thing I must have done to make him so pissed at me."

Cameron finally sat back beside him. She was relieved that she'd decided to come by and had found him before things got worse. She couldn't allow herself to think what might have happened had she not.

She turned her head to look at him, "So…the deal?" She asked as she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, the deal," House's voice trailed off as he rested his head back once again.

Cameron began to wonder just how far this was going to have to go before something happened. She knew, right now, he wasn't in any condition to do anything so she decided to make herself comfortable while he sobered up. She was too shaken by what could have happened to leave him alone now.

She laid her head on the back of the couch. As she finally began to relax, her thoughts began to wander out of her control until they were finally gone altogether.

Cameron woke up to the sound of the television clicking on and House turning down the volume.

"What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her face and looking around for a clock.

"No idea."

They both watched the television as House flipped mindlessly through the channels.

"Let me drive you over to the station?" Cameron broke the silence, fully awake now.

House simply closed his eyes and didn't protest.


End file.
